


caffeine cold

by Vulpix



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, just like ???, this is rediculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 13:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4306239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vulpix/pseuds/Vulpix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick wouldn’t mind coming here again, but he was a little surprised when he looked at the side of his drink. Instead of Patrick, it said “Paul” with a heart next to the name. His brow furrowed a little bit. He didn’t know how Patrick could be misheard as Paul, but he guessed he’d fix that next time he went. If only it was that easy.</p><p>(or Pete can't get Patrick's name right to save a life, and Joe Trohman finds it hilarious.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	caffeine cold

**Author's Note:**

> i woke up to a note in my phone that said "petes a barista and he keeps getting patrick's name wrong." and then this happened. thanks late night self.

When you have a dream job, you’d expect your first day to be picture perfect. You wake up and the sun is shining, the birds are singing songs they composed just for you, and you look positively perfect in the outfit you slaved over the night prior.

Patrick ended up waking up to a crash of thunder, and a glance over at his alarm clock told him he had slept in. Put his dog ripping up his blazer, and he was utterly infuriated. He struggled to find something else to wear, glaring at Rex. The little dog had an expression of happiness over his owner’s complete frustration of the situation.

By the time he got out of the house, he figured he was already late enough, and a stop for coffee wouldn’t be the death of him. He pulled up to a local place that he prayed tasted better than Starbucks, and walked in, wet and annoyed.

To be perfectly fair, the barista was cute. Like, really cute. Like if Patrick wasn’t having such a terrible day, he totally would be flirting a little. He probably wasn’t the guy’s type though. He was tan and tattooed and had a brilliant smile. Patrick couldn’t help but smile back slightly when it was focused on him.

“And what can I get you, cutie?” The barista- his name tag said Pete- said charmingly. Patrick figured the universe was finally giving him a break this morning. He rattled off his complex order, to which Pete kind of snickered at.

“I’ll make that special for you.” He winked in the most ridiculous way. “Name?”

“Patrick.”

And with that, his time with cute barista Pete was over, and he stepped to the side, waiting for his drink. Pete personally handed it to him, with a cheeky smile and a “Come again soon, I’d love to see you.”

Patrick wouldn’t mind coming here again, but he was a little surprised when he looked at the side of his drink. Instead of Patrick, it said _“Paul”_ with a heart next to the name. His brow furrowed a little bit. He didn’t know how Patrick could be misheard as Paul, but he guessed he’d fix that next time he went.

Luckily for him, despite being incredibly late, the studio didn’t mind all that much as Patrick worked late that night and claimed he was one of the best new producers they had seen in a long time. He was incredibly thrilled.

The lack of sleep was his excuse to go back to the little coffee shop with the cute barista the very next day. He meandered in a lot earlier than the day prior, but there Pete was, all smiles. Patrick just chalked it up to imagination when it seemed like Pete’s smile grew a little when he saw Patrick.

“How come I’ve never seen you before and now its two days in a row?” Pete said, grabbing a cup as slowly as possible.

“I just got a job in town, just moved in down the block,” Patrick explained.

“Now what can I get the cute new guy on the block?” Pete chuckled softly as Patrick explained out his order once again.

“And the name is Patrick,” he said, making sure to speak clearly. Pete nodded, and Patrick shifted down and waited for his drink.

Pete didn’t give it to him immediately. “Now you’ve gotta promise I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Patrick’s eyes rolled. “You can’t deny me my drink.”

Pete pouted, and Patrick determined just about then that he really, really liked Pete’s lips.

“Fine. Hopefully the coffee wins you over.” He winked, handing it over.

Patrick thanked him, and headed out. It wasn’t til he got to the studio and one of his coworkers asked, “Who’s Percival?” that he looked at his coffee.

“Are you kidding me.” Patrick grumbled, nearly wanting to throw the coffee out. Even though Pete seemingly had a fucking hearing disorder, it was good coffee.

“What?” Joe said snickering.

“Okay, pretty much yesterday I got coffee from a shop right down the street, yeah? And one of the baristas there is pretty cute I guess,” Joe snorted at the ‘I guess’, “and we were flirting and I guess he misheard me because he wrote Paul on my cup. I made sure to speak louder today and I’m apparently Percival.”

“Who the fuck names their kid Percival in the fucking 21st century?” Joe was cracking up at this point, words coming out between his giggling fit.

Patrick huffed, taking the last sip of his coffee. “I have no idea. But he’s really cute and his coffee is actually better than I expected. He’s kind of… He’s…”

“Dick-type?” Joe supplied.

“Sort of? I expected him to kind of just give me watery coffee beans because my order is ridiculous.” Patrick huffed.

“I mean, it’s terrible. You can’t marry him if he doesn’t even know your name.” Joe dramatically put his hand on the back of his forehead. Patrick threw the empty coffee container at him. Joe giggled like a fool. “Now I’ve got a question for you, new guy.”

Patrick raised a brow. “Hmm?”

“Word on the street is that you can play just about anything.” Patrick laughed, shrugging humbly. “Do you think you’d be able to fill in for a guitarist/vocalist next weekend? I know it’s short notice but I can email you the tabs and shit tonight? It’s rhythm. Straight forward. Power chords. Songs you probably know.”

He shrugged. “I’ll think about it. Let me see what I’m getting myself into?” Joe grinned with a nod.

Patrick wasn’t too sure what he was expecting over the next few days. Five more coffee cups. Pete got that he was a producer, that he liked Elvis Costello _way_ too much, and got his god damn coffee order down pat, but each time Patrick got his cup it was something different.

He stacked them in the corner of his work desk. Joe appraised them. “Presley, Prince, Parker, Pascal and… _Panthino?!_ What the actual fuck is that?”

Patrick sighed, gesturing toward them all and rubbing his face. “I googled it. It’s from a Shakespeare play.”

Joe shook his head. “He has to be fucking with you. Like, maybe I could understand him not hearing you for the first few days but now it’s just ridiculous.” He stopped the track he was working on, calling for a break. He turned to Patrick. “Now are you in on the gig thing?”

Patrick sighed. “I guess so. You weren’t kidding when you said it was easy.”

“Alright, awesome. I’m going to not take that as an insult. We’re going to practice late into tonight and tomorrow’s the gig, if that’s alright?” Patrick shrugged, not caring all that much.

The next night, he pulled into the venue Joe had given him the address to. This morning it had been _Pindarus_ scrawled across his cup, and Patrick nearly threw the coffee cup back at Pete with a, “What the fuck!?” That one he actually recognized from 11th grade English class. More Shakespeare.

He pulled his guitar out from his car, heading into the venue, starting to sound check along with the band he had met last night. The drummer was pretty cool. Covered head to toe in tattoos, but oddly the only one besides Joe that Patrick really got along with.

Five minutes before the show started, Patrick noticed a familiar face in the crowd. He nearly assaulted Joe, trying not to point. “Dude! That’s him! The fucking barista!”

Joe gaped like a fish. “That’s fucking Pete Wentz!”

“Who the fuck is Pete Wentz?!”

They were whisper shouting at this point, waiting as they were getting introduced.

“He used to be in a big band around these parts. And then he ended up getting into the label side of things. Him and Gabe Saporta- the tall one next to him- their label is about to get big. And bring anyone signed to their label with them.”

And with that pressure on his shoulders, they were introduced and Patrick walked out. They started playing, and Patrick tried to ignore the fact Pete seemed to be staring directly at him the entire time.

When they paused to grab a drink, Joe stole the mic, grinning like a fool. “So for those of you who know us, this isn’t our normal vocalist. Everyone say hi to PATRICK!”

Patrick nearly fell into a fit of laughter, grinning at Joe who made sure to pronounce his name very carefully.

“That’s P-A-T-R-I-C-K for those of you who might be confused. He did this real short notice, and for that, we thank him. Now let’s go fucking nuts.”

Patrick made sure to nudge up next to Joe and shove him lightly during the next song, a stupid grin stuck on his face the entire time. The show was great. Patrick only fucked up a few times considering he was out of practice, and thankfully he knew most of the lyrics.

While they were packing up, the band’s bassist glanced over Patrick’s shoulder and started nudging him. When Patrick glanced back, Pete was standing there, a professional smile on his face. “Can I help you, Phillip?”

The expression breaking grin that Patrick got in reply was worth the snarky attitude. “You never mentioned you played music too.”

Patrick shrugged.

“Now this isn’t really professional and Gabe asked me to be professional with you, but I’m going to not listen to him. It’s not usually proper to do it this way, but I’d really like to look into signing you if you’re interested in that sort of thing and have some material, then take you out to dinner to celebrate, and maybe if it goes well enough you’ll invite me in.”

Patrick stared in shock. Joe wrapped his arm around his shoulders, looking at Pete with a nearly threatening expression. “You can’t really sign someone you don’t know the name of.”

Pete didn’t even waver his gaze, staring at Patrick like he was a winning ticket of the lottery. “I don’t think that’ll be an issue. What do you say, Patrick?”

“Fucking finally!”

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on tumblr, @ asoulpunk


End file.
